A Saturday Night, After 18 Years of Marriage

Last night, my husband and I thought about going out to Silver Lake or Venice Beach, but we didn't.

So we went out for some sushi - one rainbow roll, two crunchy rolls and two sakes - and then went to Border's and bought some magazines. For him, a magazine for bass players; for me, a Writer's Digest.

Ian turned on the TV, and we both sat back and read. Neither of us really noticed the channel was on a PBS program about the making of the Lawrence Welk Show. I remember watching it with my grandma back in the 1970s. I even kinda liked the tap dancers, Sissy and Bobby. But I was a geek even back then.

Anyway, too involved in our magazines, we let the show play in the background. And then I poked my head over my glossy pages to see Lawrence Welk, circa 1969, walk out onto his stage dressed like a hippie. He even danced and made the peace sign. His girl singers crowded around him and said in unison, "We protest! We protest!" in response to his new funky-chic threads. So off came the wig...off came the freaky outfit, revealing the Mr. Welk Americans know best.

Yep, I took a photo of my TV. My husband shook his head. "Well," I said, "I have nothing better to do."

Comments

Your Saturday evening sounds perfect to me--sushi and Borders? I'm in. Last night we went to our favorite Mexican dive, Mario's (they have the best hand-made tamales! and afterwards to Golden Spoon for some yogurt. How boring suburbia is that? At least I had a beer with my tamale.